


Perfect Strangers

by Swanny_Writer



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Getting Together, I'm finally putting that WonHui selca lesson into good use, M/M, Shocking I know, alcohol mentioned, also this is the first time i've written WonHui going to a college party, normal SVT is more extra than anything i could write anyway, nothing wild but tagging it just in case, soft and dorky WonHui
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 03:12:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11477412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swanny_Writer/pseuds/Swanny_Writer
Summary: Wonwoo plans on spending his evening at the local coffee shop to escape from his roommates' attempt at dragging him to a party. But when he finds an abandoned phone, he starts to think maybe socializing with strangers isn't such a bad idea.(Or the one where WonHui meet at a party and Jun teaches Wonwoo how to take better selfies)





	Perfect Strangers

 

_At last._ Refuge.

With a sigh of relief, Wonwoo pulls the door of the coffee house open and steps inside. The aroma of roasted beans coalesces with that of the freshly baked pastries to permeate the air. He inhales a lungful. The lone barista behind the counter looks up to greet him, and he nods in acknowledgement before crossing the mostly empty floor to order. It’s past the usual rush. Only a few customers are peppered around the tables and couches, minding their own business, pouring over their laptops and notebooks. With solely the low hum of the machines and quiet murmurs to break the monotone of the ambience, Wonwoo cracks a satisfied smile.

He can finally relax, having escaped the annoying and incessant jabbering from his roommates. Deep down, he knows they mean well. They just want him to go out and have fun, but getting drunk with a bunch of strangers is not his idea of a good time. So he fibbed and told them he had to finish a group project. Then he left the apartment before either could catch him. Everyday, he thanks the universe and the coffee house’s owner for keeping it open 24/7. It also helps that it’s only a few blocks away from the college apartments, saving him the bus fare. 

Grabbing the paper plate with a chocolate muffin, he shuffles toward his favorite seat in the corner of the shop. It’s not until he settles in and bites into the pastry that he notices a lone phone on the adjacent table. A cursory glimpse around shows no sign of its owner. No bag under the table or chair to indicate that they stepped out or went to the bathroom. No one is standing in line, either. As for the handful of people nearby, none of them appears to be missing their phones. Everything points to the conclusion that the device has been forgotten.

Well, in this day and age, you can’t really be apart from your phone for very long. Wonwoo decides to keep an eye on it on the off-chance that the person would come back to retrieve soon. If by the end of the evening they don’t show up, he’ll simply turn it in to the staff.

Wonwoo is a couple bites into the muffin when the barista calls his name for the coffee. Upon his return to the table, he sips on the dark liquid to wash down the sugary taste of the pastry. Then he digs his book out of his bag and settles in for the evening. 

He’s startled, a few pages later, by the vibration of the phone on the table. Glancing up, he checks to make sure it’s not his, but the abandoned device. The contact picture flashes. Instead of a photo, it’s a hand-drawn doodle of some kind of creature that looks almost like a hamster with huge cheeks and squinty eyes. Apparently its name is  _Young Hurricane_.

Obviously, Wonwoo’s isn’t going to pick up someone else’s call, so he lets it ring for a few more moments. Once it stops, he attempts to return to the story, but then the phone vibrates again. This time to signal incoming text messages. Now, Wonwoo isn’t nosy; however, it’s a little difficult to ignore the distraction when the screen constantly flashes. So with a resigned sigh, he presses the home button to see what could be so important.

 

**Young Hurricane:** if anyone sees this pls call/reply to me

**Young Hurricane:** oh this is the phone’s owner btw

**Young Hurricane:** guess you’d need the passcode: 1317

 

Wonwoo stares at the messages and blinks. He reads it again. From the facts, he gathers that the owner realized they lost their phone and is now using someone else’s device to try to locate their belonging. Wonwoo mulls it over. He really doesn’t want to get involved, but if he were to fall into the same position, he’d want to know that he doesn’t have to buy a replacement. So on a daring move, he inputs the passcode and watches the screen unlock.

The first thing he notices is the home screen. Wonwoo has no idea where the person got it from, but it’s a picture of an orange kitten sitting on the pages of an open book, apparently reading. _Cute_. His amusement is interrupted by more messages.

 

**Young Hurricane:** is there really no one around?

**Young Hurricane:**  ╥﹏╥

 

**Moon Prince:** uh, hello. i found your phone

**Young Hurricane:** oh thank god!  (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ

**Young Hurricane:** and you, too lol

**Young Hurricane:** i can’t believe i lost it. do you mind telling me where you are?

 

**Moon Prince:** sure, you left it @ Pledis Café

 

 

**Young Hurricane:** really? wow. i could’ve sworn i had it at the store

**Young Hurricane:** anyway, thank you so much for finding it!

 

**Moon Prince:** it’s no problem

**Moon Prince:** but uh, are you always this trusting?

 

**Young Hurricane:** not particularly? what makes you say that?

 

**Moon Prince:** so you just give out ur passcode to random strangers?

 

 

**Young Hurricane:** LOL

**Young Hurricane:** well it’s not like there’s national secrets or anything stashed in there

**Young Hurricane:** besides, you gotta give to receive, right?

 

**Moon Prince:** i guess. still seems pretty risky

**Moon Prince:** i could just steal it now that i know the passcode

 

**Young Hurricane:** are you trying to say you’re not trustworthy? 0_o

 

**Moon Prince:** no, i consider myself quite responsible and worthy of trust

 

 

**Young Hurricane:** that’s exactly what an untrustworthy person would say! lol

 

**Moon Prince:** lol

 

 

**Young Hurricane:** i think i’m gonna need some proof

**Young Hurricane:** (´ー`)σ

 

**Moon Prince:** that i’m trustworthy?

 

 

**Young Hurricane:** mhm

 

**Moon Prince:** isn’t the fact that i haven’t snooped into your phone enough proof?

 

 

 

**Young Hurricane:** under normal circumstances, yes. 

**Young Hurricane:** but since i can’t tell if ur lying or not, its not good enough

 

 

**Moon Prince:** you mean you DON’T trust a complete stranger?

**Moon Prince:** i’m offended ( ￣＾￣)

 

 

 

**Young Hurricane:** LOL

**Young Hurricane:** i’m just being careful, just like you suggested :P

 

 

**Moon Prince:** alright then how would i have to prove myself 

and my innocence,  o wise one?

 

**Young Hurricane:** junhui

 

**Moon Prince:** huh?

 

**Young Hurricane:** that’s my name

 

**Moon Prince:** oh. well, i’m wonwoo

 

**Young Hurricane:** nice to meet you! well, kind of lol

**Young Hurricane:** anyway, back to business.  send me a picture

 

**Moon Prince:** a picture? of what? the coffee house?

 

**Young Hurricane:** yes

**Young Hurricane:** no

**Young Hurricane:** well… send me a pic of you at the coffee house

 

**Moon Prince:** 0_o

**Moon Prince:** you want me to take a selfie 

with your phone and send it to you? 

**Moon Prince:**  how is that going to prove anything, 

besides the fact that i’m still here?

 

**Young Hurricane:** villains look villainous! Ψ(`_´ # )↝

 

 **Moon Prince:** hate to break it to you,  but IRL 

villains don’t have twirly mustaches  and 

creepy grins like they do in cartoons

**Moon Prince:** much less a tail and horns

 

**Young Hurricane:** you are being evasive and suspicious, wonwoo!

**Young Hurricane:** if that’s even ur real name!!!

**Young Hurricane:** (¬､¬)

 

**Moon Prince:** ◔̯◔

**Moon Prince:** fine. hold on

**Moon Prince:**  and that IS my real name

 

 

Wonwoo sets down Junhui’s phone and blows out a small breath. He taps the corner of the table with his blunt nails, wondering how this guy seamlessly roped him into a conservation, and how he had agreed to a selfie without much objection. If he were honest with himself, he’d admit that it was a little thrilling. It’s definitely not the way he’s used to making friends. But there’s something about this guy that makes conversation flow naturally, and Wonwoo wants to keep at it.

So with an awkward glance around, he insures that no one is paying him any attention, then scoots his chair to the side a bit in order to situate himself in front of the far wall, where the name of the coffee house is painted. Wonwoo picks up the phone and switches on the front camera, staring at his reflection for a second to brush out the errant strands of hair. A little flutter swirls in his stomach. _Why is he nervous?_ He’s not trying to impress the guy, is he? _No._ He just wants to make a good impression. First impressions are important, regardless of whom you meet.

That’s what he tells himself anyway. His thumb hovers over the button and taps. 

 

**Moon Prince:** _*sent a picture*_

 

**Young Hurricane:** hmm… cute!

**Young Hurricane:** but you’d look cuter if you knew how to take a proper selfie

 

 

How in the world can a compliment from an almost complete stranger manage to make him blush? He’s pretty sure he knows the answer, but it’s so ridiculous, he pretends not to be aware. Clearing his throat, he takes a sip of the coffee to gather his wits, hiding behind indignation instead.

 

**Moon Prince:** I think it looks fine. it serves its purpose

**Moon Prince:** good enough to prove my trustworthiness?

 

**Young Hurricane:** didn’t i already confirm it?

 

**Moon Prince:** no?

 

**Young Hurricane:**  oh. well, i said the pic is cute. bad guys don’t look cute

**Young Hurricane:** but that’s besides the point

**Young Hurricane:** this is how you take a selfie

**Young Hurricane:** _*sent a picture*_

 

Wonwoo blinks as he stares at the picture. Did he somehow come across a model’s phone or something? Because _damn_. This is not helping calm the jitters at all, nor does it repress the funny feeling in his stomach. The amount of time he spends studying the shot is probably longer than what could be considered normal, but it's not like there's anyone here to judge him, so screw it. 

Large eyes that convey both childish innocence and mischief look up at him from the slight tilt of the head, accentuating a straight nose, with full and pouty lips curved into the faintest smile. Wonwoo's heart actually races a little, and that is _scary_. His fingers itch. He’s tempted to send it to his own phone to save, but that would turn him into a complete creep, so he scrambles for the calmness he doesn’t quite possess at the moment to reply.

 

**Moon Prince:** not bad   

**Moon Prince:** ╮(‾◡◝　)╭

 

**Young Hurricane:** Pfft! (´^｀)

**Young Hurricane:** i’m a 10 and you know it

 

**Moon Prince:** if you’re a 10 then i’m an 11

 

**Young Hurricane:** that’s out of range. data not counted

 

**Moon Prince:** ◔̯◔

 

 

Despite the eye roll, Wonwoo lets out a soft laugh, sipping his beverage. He gets a kick out of the fact that Junhui didn’t refute his claim. 

There’s a pause in the flow of text messages, though, and he wonders what happened to Junhui. A tiny needle of doubt and wariness pricks his skin at the thought of this whole encounter coming to an end. To keep himself from coming across as pathetic and needy, he gets up to throw away the used napkins and paper plate into the trash, making sure to go around the tables to the farthest receptacle to stall for time.

When he returns, he sees the screen flash with new notifications. A grin breaks out on his face without his permission. He downs a good gulp of coffee to douse the annoying butterflies in his stomach.

 

**Mini Musical Satan:** hey, sorry

**Mini Musical Satan:** my friend needed his phone back, so i begged another for his

 

**Moon Prince:** it’s ok

**Moon Prince:** I didn’t know Satan plays music. 

i’m impressed you got that kind of connections

 

**Mini Musical Satan:** LOL (*^｡^*)

**Mini Musical Satan:** he’s my roommate, and he’s actually a big softie

 

**Moon Prince:** considering he let you borrow his phone, 

i don’t doubt it

 

 

**Mini Musical Satan:** what, you don’t think my charms did the trick?  ◕‿↼

 

**Moon Prince:** ha

 

**Mini Musical Satan:** ﾟ*｡(･∀･)ﾟ*｡

 

**Moon Prince:** so i don’t mean to pry but are you supposed to be 

hanging out with your friends or something?

 

**Mini Musical Satan:** well… kinda?

**Mini Musical Satan:** we’re at a birthday party, but it’s too loud and stuffy

**Mini Musical Satan:** i’m hiding out in the staircase outside the apartment

 

**Moon Prince:** i’m sorry. that sounds terrible

 

**Mini Musical Satan:** it’s not that bad

**Mini Musical Satan:** especially since i get to talk to you (◠‿◠)

 

Suppressing the summersaults in his stomach, Wonwoo wracks his brain for something so say. Something that isn’t totally lame or cheesy. Because he definitely knows how Junhui feels. This evening was supposed to be shared between him and a book, with the least amount of interactions. But that totally went out the window the moment he decided to answer the texts. And yet he can't find any other word to describe his current feeling other than: content.

Junhui types out a message before he can form proper words to express himself, though.

 

**Mini Musical Satan:** you know, i was actually planning on hiding out here 

reading until cake time

**Mini Musical Satan:**  but when i reached for my phone, that’s when i realized

i didn’t have it. so thx for keeping me company

 

 

**Moon Prince:** glad to be of service (‘∀`)ゞ

**Moon Prince:**  but you like to read? what kind of books do you like?

 

 

**Mini Musical Satan:** i don’t have space for hard copies, but i have a pretty

extensive ebook collection!

**Mini Musical Satan:** I hope ur question wasn’t just out of politeness  

 

**Moon Prince:** it wasn’t. i’m an avid reader myself

 

**Mini Musical Satan:**   (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

**Mini Musical Satan:** hurray! hope you’re ready!

 

**Moon Prince:** lol. i’m all ears… well, eyes

 

**Mini Musical Satan:** ٩(^ᴗ^)۶

 

 

For the next several minutes, the two engage in a gradually heated discussion over each other’s favorite genres and authors. Wonwoo learns that despite Junhui’s initial playful and somewhat flirtatious nature, he gets pretty serious and intense over certain topics. Even more worthy of notice is how well the two of them spin the discussion, with both agreements and counterarguments. Wonwoo can’t remember the last time he’s had this much fun discussing literary classics. 

 

**Mini Musical Satan:** oh hold on

**Mini Musical Satan:** my friend needs his phone back for a sec

 

Wonwoo uses the short break to order another coffee.

 

**Mini Musical Satan:** and… i’m back!

 

**Moon Prince:** everything ok?

 

**Mini Musical Satan:**  yes, he was just checking on the cake's ETA

 

**Moon Prince:** I see. are you going home after the cake is cut? 

 

**Mini Musical Satan:** yeah

**Mini Musical Satan:** wait omg! i am so sorry!

**Mini Musical Satan:** you probably have things to do!!!

**Mini Musical Satan:** a lot of better things to do that chat with some random 

stranger who stupidly left his phone at a cafe. you can just leave it with 

one of the baristas. i’ll come pick it up as soon as i can!

**Mini Musical Satan:** i am so sorry! (つ﹏<。)

 

**Moon Prince:** no, it’s fine dw

**Moon Prince:** i wasn’t doing anything important 

 

**Mini Musical Satan:** really? or are you just saying that to make me feel better?

 

 **Moon Prince:** i promise

 

**Mini Musical Satan:** ok… then um…

**Mini Musical Satan:** do you

**Mini Musical Satan:** (…) 

 

The bubble with the ellipses keeps appearing and disappearing, a tell-tale sign that whatever Junhui is trying to say, he keeps on deleting it before hitting ‘send’. Wonwoo lets a tiny smile slip over his face and decides to prod him gently.

 

**Moon Prince:** yes?

 

**Mini Musical Satan:** well, i was just thinking… 

**Mini Musical Satan:** since ur not doing anything important

**Mini Musical Satan:** do you want to come to the party?

**Mini Musical Satan:** i promise it’ll be fun!

**Mini Musical Satan:**  ٩(^ᴗ^)۶ ☆．。．:*･°

 

**Moon Prince:** Junhui. do i have to remind you that ur hiding in the staircase? 

that doesn’t really sound like fun to me 

 

 

**Mini Musical Satan:** but it would be if you were here! (◠‿◠)

 

 

Rubbing at his face, he stares at the screen and the smiley face through the gaps of his fingers. To think he thought he’d escape any sort of party tonight involving more than himself and the characters in the latest novel. Just the thought of showing up to a stranger’s apartment, getting squished between sweaty and drunk people, is enough to make Wonwoo groan. And this party would even be worse than the one his roommates wanted to drag him to, because at least then, he’d know two people as opposed to one, sort of. 

It should be easy to say no. Actually, even easier to write it out. But then, why is it not? Why is he hesitating? 

His thumb stops scrolling through the transcript when he spots Junhui’s picture. 

_This is so dumb_. He’s not in high school. He’s not a hormonal teenager with a crush. _Just decline the offer, goddamnit!_

But then would he still be able to talk to Junhui? Wouldn’t it become awkward? Worse, though, he doesn’t want to disappoint him. Which is completely ridiculous when they haven’t done anything but chat through messages. 

As if sensing his hesitation and dilemma, a new text arrives.

 

 

**Mini Musical Satan:** I’d really like to meet you in person

 

 

There is no emoji accompanying the message to make it cute or endearing, and yet it inexplicably tugs at Wonwoo’s heart. It causes him to wonder what Junhui’s voice sounds like. If his eyes really do sparkle like that in person. He wants to know how someone could seem so outgoing, yet hides from a party to go read a book on the landing. That simple statement prompts a lot of questions to swirl in Wonwoo’s head about Junhui. And so before he knows what he’s doing, his fingers are already hitting the keypad.

 

**Moon Prince:** Ok

 

 

Once Junhui sends him the address, Wonwoo finishes up his drink and throws his trash away. He returns to the table to put away his book, pondering how it’s the first time he’s ever come here to read and getting less than a dozen pages done. Wonwoo always thought himself to be skilled in the art of ignoring people and distractions in favor of a good storyline. The fact that Junhui was able to bypass it all with a few text messages is quite admirable, if not a little worrisome. If the guy is able to persuade him through mere texts, what would happen when they come face to face? Is it really wise to go meet him? 

Instead of telling him something came up as some sort of excuse to cancel, Wonwoo unlocks the screen once he’s outside to continue chatting with the very persuasive dork about that cat picture on the phone’s home screen. 

According to the text Junhui sent, the building in question is on the North side of the student housing complex, which is not very far from his own place. Convenient, if nothing else. Were the night to turn sour, at least he can run back to his room in less than five minutes.

When the appropriate building comes into view, he tells Junhui as such, then slowly approaches. So far, his ears are met with only the rustling of the leaves and the occasional cheers from the basketball courts across the street. No loud music, no drunken screams. All good signs. He looks up at the building, trying to guess which floor the right apartment is situated. 

He’s still contemplating the question when his name is called by a cheerful and melodic voice. A thrill shooting through his core enough to make his fingers and toes tingle propels him to spin around. A boy wearing the same hoodie that Junhui did in the picture jogs toward him, grinning brightly. He stops a few feet away and continues the rest of the way at a walking pace, seemingly a lot more shy now that they’re within hearing the distance.

“Hi,” he offers first, grin turning sheepish as he holds his hand out. “I’m Junhui.”

Wonwoo suddenly doesn’t remember how to speak. Or breathe. He gapes at the boy facing him, too distracted by, well, everything. It takes Junhui tilting his head slightly and furrowing his brows in concern to snap Wonwoo out of the trance.

“Sorry, uh, hi.” He does it on impulse, but now that his hand is stuck out and Junhui reaches for it, his internal alarms go off. He feels very hot. His hands are probably clammy and gross, and Junhui is going to be freaked out, and— 

“Nice to see you, finally,” Junhui giggles, squeezing his hand once. 

Wonwoo is going to combust. That laugh might be the purest and most innocent sound he’s ever heard. It’s soft and light like snowflakes tumbling in the breeze, dainty and beautiful. “Yeah,” he swallows thickly. “Nice to see you in person.” He tries to sound normal, forcing his lungs to work. The smile that blooms on his face, however, is not forced at all.

For a moment, the two simply stare at each other, gaze lingering, hands still grasped, sharing blushing cheeks and gentle smiles. It should feel unsettling, having someone peering at you so openly, but it doesn’t. Another exception. Junhui really is on a roll. 

Wonwoo’s heart is still stuck somewhere in his throat, but he can distinctly feel the slight tremors of Junhui’s hand. He draws comfort in the knowledge that he’s not the only one feeling nervous. 

The pleasant moment is interrupted, however, by a very familiar voice singing an upbeat pop song. 

Brows knotting together, Wonwoo turns just as Junhui leans his body to look down the small path toward the intruder. No wonder the guy’s voice is so recognizable, Wonwoo thinks with a head shake. He’s staring down at his own roommate, dancing and singing to himself, all the while cradling a cakebox in his arms. 

_Wait a minute…_

“Oh!” Soonyoung notices the boys in front of the building, and his face breaks out into an excited grin, eyes squinted into slits. “Look who decided to come after all! And you even got Junnie out of hiding! I’d give you a round of applause if I could, dude!”

Surprise blowing their eyes to the size of saucers, the boys glance at each other. “You know him?” they ask at the same time, causing their mutual friend to stop and alternate his attention between the two.

“Soonyoung’s my roommate,” Wonwoo says.

Followed by Junhui’s explanation, “He and I are part of the same dance crew.”

“Yep!” Soonyoung nods with great emphasis. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other.”

“Um, he found my phone.”

Now it’s Soonyoung’s turn to be shocked. “Really? So the guy you used my phone to flirt with is my own roommate?”

“I wasn’t flirting!” Junhui exclaims, flushing bright red. Making sure not to look directly at Wonwoo, he presses his sleeved-covered palms against his cheeks. “We were just talking.”

“Really.” Soonyoung sounds less than convinced, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Is that why you sent each other selfies?”

Junhui’s jaw hangs open. “You went through our conversation?”

“Well, it’s not like I was trying to be nosy,” he replies, but Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “It was _right there_ , so I couldn’t really ignore it.”

Junhui presses his fists over his eyes and groans. But that only makes Soonyoung laugh merrily. 

“So,” the latter turns his attention to Wonwoo now, and it can’t be anything good. Especially when a sly smirk tugs the corner of his mouth. “Should I be glad or upset that all of my pleas were ignored, while Junnie only had to bat his lashes and smile to get you to come to the party?”

“Hey!”

“What?”

At his friends’ outbursts, he cracks up again, almost dropping the cake in the process. “Whew! That was close.” 

“Please stop talking,” Wonwoo orders, pinching the bridge of his nose. Sober Soonyoung can already be difficult to handle. Buzzed Soonyoung is so much more slippery. 

He chuckles, “Alright alright,” seemingly relenting, but then he winks, throwing out a finger gun toward his roommate. “Don’t forget to use protection, lover-boy.” 

“Oh my god…”

“Hoshi!” 

The coward runs away laughing, very pleased with himself.

Turning toward each other, Wonwoo and Junhui blurt out, “I’m really sorry!” Then once they register what happened, they start chuckling. Junhui pulls on the sweater paws of his hoodie, and Wonwoo rubs the back of his neck. 

“So you didn’t want to attend the party, huh?” Junhui asks after the initial pause. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“It’s okay,” Wonwoo quickly reassures him. “You didn’t know. Besides, I doubt any one of us could have predicted how small the world is.”

Junhui laughs at that, and Wonwoo feels warm.

“Regardless, I wouldn’t feel right asking you to stay. Especially after…” Junhui glimpses behind him and gestures with his thumb, “ _That_. So…” 

Wonwoo follows his line of sight to the phone no longer lost still clutched in the former’s hand. He only has a few seconds to think and make a decision: give Junhui his phone and go home (possibly never to see him again), or actually take a chance. The choice is almost too easy.

At the last moment before Junhui’s fingertips graze Wonwoo’s, the latter pulls away, much to his companion’s confusion. Wonwoo has to suppress the urge to chuckle at the adorable way Junhui’s large eyes turn round as he stares questioningly at him. 

He can feel his lips curving into a smirk as he says, “You promised the party will be fun, right? Shouldn’t you prove it?”

A small grin appears on Junhui’s face as he cocks his head to the side. “So if I succeed I’ll get my phone back?”

“Yep.”

“Okay.” 

 

When the two enter the apartment, Wonwoo expects his eardrums to pop and his nose to be assaulted by beer and vodka. And to be honest, the music _is_ loud, and there’s a lot of alcohol passed around, but the party is much more subdued than any scene his imagination conjured up. To his surprise, the faces loitering the couches and counters are rather familiar. Seriously, how small is the world? To think that he and Junhui share the same friends and yet never met each other until some accidental encounter that has more to do with Junhui’s forgetfulness than anything.

A tug around his sleeve pulls his focus away from Hansol trying to eat a whole cup of jell-o without using his hands, while Seungkwan watches on with a mixed look of awe and judgment. Wonwoo glances over to Junhui.

The latter leans forward, and Wonwoo sucks in a breath at the proximity. But it turns out Junhui just wanted to be heard above the music. Wonwoo tells himself he’s not disappointed.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” he nods, hoping the flush isn’t noticeable in the dim lighting. “I’m just surprised to see my friends here.”

Junhui grins happily. “That’s great! Do you want to go say hi?”

“That’s—” 

“HELLOOOOOO!” A hefty hand suddenly slaps against Wonwoo’s back, and he almost topples over. 

In the second it takes to recognize the voice, he’s turned around to see Mingyu’s goofy grin as the giant puppy alternates his focus between Wonwoo and Junhui. _Yep. Another buzzed roommate_. 

“I’m so glad to see you guys!” Mingyu shouts, hooking his arms around the boys on either side of him. “Let’s get something to drink! Seungcheol splurged for the birthday boy!”

Junhui tries not to laugh as he halts Mingyu’s clumsier movements with a firm hand on his forearm. “I think you’ve had enough to drink.”

The drunkard narrows his eyes and pouts. “You’re no fun, Moon Junnie.” Then he turns to his left and addresses Wonwoo. “When did you get here? I thought you had a project to do.”

Wonwoo is impressed he can recall their conversation considering his brain is currently swimming in expensive alcohol. “I finished early,” he says. What’s the point of explaining, when he’s certain the boy won’t remember much the next morning?

“Nice!” Mingyu cheers, and manages to almost trip over the edge of the carpet. Thankfully, his friends are quite used to the accidents and grab his shoulders in time. “Thanks,” he mumbles. “Anyway! Come on, Wonwoo! I’ll grab you a drink.”

“It’s fine, I’m good, thanks.”

Another pout. “You guys are so boring. I’m gonna go find Minghao.”

Or so he says. In the end, the three of them scour the apartment for the boy and find him sitting on a couch with Jeonghan and Jisoo playing a game of cards. Wonwoo and Junhui barely have time to let go of Mingyu before the drunken tree collapses over all of their laps, eliciting cries of protests as cards fly all over the floor. But since no one has the heart to push him off, he just buries his head into his boyfriend’s stomach. And then proceeds to fall asleep. Minghao heaves a sigh and rolls his eyes, but he pats Mingyu’s shoulder and readjusts himself to allow the sleeping puppy to be more comfortable. 

“Happy Birthday,” Junhui wishes to Jeonghan once the older boys successfully pull themselves out from under Mingyu’s body. 

“Thank you!” Jeonghan beams, then turns to Wonwoo. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“So did I,” he mumbles, but he cracks a smile. “Happy Birthday.”

The older laughs and swats his arm as he and Jisoo move to find somewhere else to sit. 

After that, Wonwoo follows Junhui to the kitchen to get two cans of soda. On the way, they run into Seokmin doing some kind of animal impression in the middle of the living room, followed by Soonyoung and Chan attempting to get a dance battle going. The newly made friends spend a few moments watching the match, laughing along to the silliness. 

Back in the kitchen, Junhui has just washed and cut up strawberries for the chocolate fondue when Jihoon walks in, purple hair contrasting nicely with the surrounding. The shorter boy eyes Wonwoo with an air of surprise, brow arched as he reaches for a bottle in the cooler. 

“Oh, Jihoonie!” Junhui exclaims, drying his hands on a paper towel. “Here’s your phone. Thank you!”

“Sure,” the other replies, pocketing it. “Did you find yours?”

A nervous chuckle tumbles out of his mouth as he throws a glimpse at Wonwoo. “Sort of?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Err… Wonwoo has it.”

Jihoon’s eyes dart toward him. “Do I want to know why?”

“He left it at Pledis Café, and I found it,” Wonwoo explains. Then something occurs to him. “Wait, so Jihoon is ‘Mini—” 

With panic widening his eyes, Junhui jumps and flings himself toward Wonwoo, clasping a hand over his mouth. Wonwoo is too shocked to feel embarrassed. “Shhhh!” the clinging koala pleads. 

“Jihoon is what?” Mini Musical Satan asks, shifting his weight to lean against the fridge.

“Nothing!” Junhui says, hand still tight against Wonwoo’s face. “I just told him we were roommates.” Another nervous chuckle.

The boy narrows his eyes and takes a sip of his drink. “Alright.” Jihoon doesn’t look quite convinced, but he also doesn’t seem to want to pursue the issue further, so he just nods toward Wonwoo and leaves. Wonwoo can’t say he’s paying much attention to where Jihoon went, or the fact that Mini Musical Satan is what Junhui calls their mutual friend. Because right now, he has a very warm and blushing Junhui in his arms, and he’s not sure what to do.

“Um,” Junhui fumbles with his words, slowly disentangling himself. “Sorry about that.”

Wonwoo clears his suddenly parched throat. “It’s… _ahem…_ it’s okay. I didn’t mind.” _What the hell, Jeon Wonwoo?_ “I mean,” he adds quickly, “I understand. Jihoon is scary.”

Junhui laughs, a little more relaxed now, although his cheeks are still tinted pink. “Yeah.” He shuffles, head lowered sheepishly, probably realizing at last the position he put themselves in mere moments earlier. Looking around, he grabs a plastic fork and spears a red berry. “Wanna try one? They’re really sweet!”

Gazing at the timid expression, Wonwoo feels his own smile soften. “Sure.” Their fingers brush when he grabs the extended utensil, and Junhui looks even more like the fruit. 

Still, he’s grinning as he grabs another berry and dips it into the chocolate. Wonwoo tries not to stare, but he can’t tear his eyes away from the full lips wrapped around the strawberry. A pink tongue pokes out to lick the corner of his lips, but it can’t quite get the smear of chocolate.

Wonwoo chuckles, making Junhui look over. “You’ve still got chocolate,” he says, gesturing over his own mouth.

“Oh!” Junhui attempts in vain to get it.

“Here.” Without thinking, Wonwoo lifts his hand and wipes the pad of his thumb over the spot. Surprising the both of them. But thanks to his natural knack for feigning composure, Wonwoo merely grins cheekily and sticks his thumb into his own mouth. “Done.” 

There’s no doubt Junhui is as red as the plate of strawberries at his elbow now. “Thanks.” 

However, when he looks up at Wonwoo from beneath his lashes and smiles shyly, Wonwoo can’t bring himself to feel anything other than delight, and he has a distinct feeling that the shade of his own face can't be that different.

“Jun! There you are!” Seungcheol stumbles into the kitchen, successfully breaking the moment with the wild eyes and almost panic look. Before either one can ask the older what’s wrong, he’s already grabbed Junhui by the arm and pulling him out toward the living room. “I need a partner! I am _not_ going to let the maknae and Soonyoung win this battle.”

“Wait, what?” Junhui throws Wonwoo an apologetic look, but that’s all the can manage before he’s dragged away. 

A little shocked, Wonwoo blinks, then follows them out into the other room to see that the furniture has been pushed back to make room in the middle. Soonyoung is stretching excessively and hyping up the crowd, while Chan looks on with amusement. Wonwoo glimpses Jeonghan and Jisoo not far away, cheering on Seungcheol as he stands beside a very confused Junhui, and jumps up and down, getting his fighting spirit to turn into energy. The ruckus has roused Mingyu up, but he’s still wrapped around Minghao like an octopus, while the other all but ignores him for the sake of throwing jabs at the four guys in the middle of the circle. 

Apparently, somehow, Soonyoung riled Seungcheol up over something dumb, if Wonwoo has to guess, and the only way to settle the score is a dance battle. Because of course it is. Wonwoo supposes he should be glad it’s something harmless; their friends don’t always form the brightest ideas on a regular basis. So it’s even weirder when they’re tipsy. The reason for Minghao’s jabs and Junhui getting dragged into the mess is because of Mingyu. Even if the group might act annoyed, they all love the oversized puppy, so they left him alone to cuddle MInghao. Which left Junhui as the only other guy from the dance crew, so Seungcheol, of course, snatched him up.

Wonwoo isn’t sure what he expected, but it was probably more than what ends up happening. When three quarters of the contestants are drunk, it results in the only sober man fighting embarrassment and laughter as he tries to keep up with the silly game. Soonyoung is waving his arms in the air like those inflatable tubes outside of car dealerships, and screeching about hurricanes. At least it explains why his name is saved under _Young Hurricane_ now. Next to him, Chan is holding back fits of laughter, desperately trying to keep up by kneeling on the floor and repeating the same arm movements. But it doesn’t take very long until he keels over, clutching his stomach, trying to breathe through the hysterics. 

The whole spectacle is so ridiculous, even Wonwoo finds himself laughing.

Jeonghan, acting like the referee, wheezes and wipes at the tears as he makes his way to the duo to declare the end of round one. Then he gestures for Seungcheol and Junhui to go next. Now this is something Wonwoo can’t wait to see. He shoves his hands into the back pockets of his jeans as he watches Junhui meekly advancing to the center. He’s doubtlessly regretting his decision to leave the staircase right now. When he looks up and notices Wonwoo’s smirk, he pouts, which only prompts the former to chuckle at the endearing sight.

Well, Seungcheol gives Soonyoung a run for his money in terms of making a fool out of himself. All the old man jokes about him come into fruition when he busts out the most embarrassing dad moves in existence. The audience is not watching a twenty-two year old college student at a party. They’re watching a dad of twelve sons dancing in his living room. Wonwoo gets second-hand embarrassment just from being a spectator. He can’t even begin to imagine what Junhui must feel, standing there, trying so hard not to laugh, and supporting his senior. In the end, the poor guy doesn’t have much choice. As best as he can, he follows the moves and matches them in between heaves of laughter. 

The whole ‘tournament’ ends when Soonyoung joins in and attempts to outdo Seungcheol’s dad moves. Not to be left out, Seokmin and Seungkwan jump in and the whole thing just gets out of control. At that point, the whole room is rolling on the floor or clutching the nearest person as they all die from laughter. Wonwoo’s sides hurt, he can’t breathe, and his cheeks are sore. He rubs at his eyes roughly to remove the tears, gasping for air.

When he finally manages to get himself together, he sees Seungcheol and Soonyoung playing tug of war with a terrified Junhui in the middle. Chan has long gone into cackling overload, gripping a pillow on the floor and hiding his face into the cushion in hopes of calming down. Which doesn’t seem to happen any time soon because Hansol is laying on his stomach nearby and repeatedly slaps him to make him look up to laugh at Seokmin and Seungkwan. 

Wonwoo meets Junhui’s gaze, and the latter mouths, “help me!”

It’s difficult enough to resist Junhui, add in the pleading eyes and Wonwoo is long gone. He catches his breath and nods, pushing himself off of the wall. 

“Sorry guys,” he says gently when he gets to the center, attracting the attention of the males still keeping Junhui’s arms prisoner. “But I’m gonna borrow Junhui for a bit.”

Soonyoung quints up at him like he’s a lunatic. Wonwoo idly wonders if he can even see him through those slits. Smacking his lips, he readies himself to talk. Wonwoo takes advantage of the distracted state to help Junhui uncurl the fingers biting into his skin. 

“Wonwoo,” Soonyoung states, prompting the boy to look at him.

“Yes, Soonyoung.” 

He gently drops the dancer’s hand and starts on Seungcheol’s hand. The older, apparently too tired, has fallen to floor, still gripping Junhui’s wrist. He’s just managed to free Junhui when Soonyoung speaks up again, a lot more serious than Sober Soonyoung.

“Wonwoo, Junnie is my friend.” The mentioned boys exchange a slightly worried look. All the more when Soonyoung scrunches his brows and moves closer, swaying side to side. “You are my friend, too.” He jabs his finger to the center of Wonwoo’s chest. “So you better treat him right!” he shouts, startling the two for a second. 

“Uh…” Wonwoo hesitates, unsure if anything he says now will register in Soonyoung’s mind. “Sure.”

That seems to satisfy the drunkard as he smiles dumbly at his friends, patting their shoulders with a little too much force. “Good. Good. I give you my blessing!” 

Had he left it at that, it would have been cute. Had he left it at that, Wonwoo might have actually smiled at the show of affection. But of course Soonyoung couldn’t. 

He has to finish with, “Now go fuck each other’s brains out!” 

Junhui whimpers and hides behind his sweater paws, while Wonwoo freezes on the spot, blinking dazedly at his roommate, who immediately drops to the floor and rolls until he hits the first obstacle. After which point he quickly falls asleep.

“Is it possible to die from embarrassment?” Junhui asks from behind his hands, too mortified to look at Wonwoo.

The latter laughs, gently taking his wrist into his hand. “Well, I highly doubt anyone will remember much of tonight.”

With Junhui's face uncovered, Wonwoo can see the flushed cheeks clearly. “Yeah, but we will,” Junhui chuckles.

Wonwoo shrugs, offering a smile. “I don’t mind. Do you?”

The reciprocating gesture is dazzling. He shakes his head. “Not at all.” 

 

Once they manage to navigate out of the room, Junhui takes Wonwoo to the landing outside of the apartment, where they take a seat on the stairs for a breather. 

They settle in and enjoy the peace and quiet for a few moments. Then Junhui turns to him and requests, “Let me borrow your phone.”

Wonwoo inches up to grab it from his pocket, inputting the passcode before handing it over. He watches Junhui tap the camera icon and scoot closer to him.

“I think it’s time to teach you the proper way to take a selfie.”

Letting out a soft laugh, he agrees. “Alright.” 

The lesson, if he can call it that, is more entertaining than educational. But only because Wonwoo finds so much amusement from listening to Junhui speaking with such conviction and seriousness over something as trivial as selfies. There are apparently angles and ‘rules’ that ensure the best poses, how you’re supposed to incline your head a certain way in order to capture your jaw in the best light, where you should place your fingers to add flair, how far the camera should be placed, and how everything would differ with more than one person in the shot. In the end, Wonwoo retains about 10% of the rules and 90% of the way Junhui looks. 

“Okay, why don’t you try it now?” the selfie master suggests, snapping him out of his reverie. 

He takes his phone back with slight nervousness, mind spinning for what he’s heard no more than two minutes ago. “L-like this?” he asks, putting his hand out in front of his face.

“Lower your arm a little,” Junhui instructs, placing his hand over Wonwoo’s around the phone. “Tilt your chin.” He reaches for Wonwoo’s face and positions it to his liking. Wonwoo hopes he can’t tell how hot his skin feels. “Let me see.” In order to get a proper look through the screen, Junhui leans closer to inspect his work. “Okay.”

Wonwoo tells himself not to let the disappointment show on his face when the other pulls away to let him press the shutter. Examining the shot afterward, he’s amazed to see how better he looks. Who knew just a few pointers could make such a difference?

“There!” Junhui giggles, arm brushing against Wonwoo’s as he studies his hard work. “ _Much_ cuter!”

Wonwoo lifts his head and turns, retort readily at the tip of his tongue. But it dies somewhere along the way, because Junhui’s perfect face is _right there_. He’s so close, Wonwoo can count every eyelash. He is also pleasantly surprised to discover the handful of freckles sprinkled over the sharp features. His attention is captured specifically by the two near Junhui's lips, which are now stretched in a grin as their owner gazes at Wonwoo's selfie. 

Probably from not hearing Wonwoo respond, Junhui looks up. Their gazes lock, and Wonwoo forgets how to breathe again. His heart hammers in his chest, and his fingers tingle. He can see the fabric of Junhui’s shirt jump where his heart pounds, spying the rosy blush spreading over his cheeks. Junhui wets his lips, drawing Wonwoo’s gaze back down to them. 

“How cliché is it to meet a boy at a party and kissing him before the end of the night?” Junhui’s voice comes out as a whisper, and it’s unbelievably more entrancing than anything Wonwoo could have imagined. 

He’s not sure how he manages to reply, but miracles happen, he guesses. “Very cliché.”

Those hypnotic lips curve into a smirk. “Do you mind?”

The thousand or so butterflies in his stomach are wrecking havoc. His heart is trying to escape his ribcage. Despite sitting in the drafty landing, his temperature is feverish.

But Wonwoo doesn’t register any of that, because he can feel Junhui’s forehead resting against his, and their hands are brushing together. He wants their lips to create the third point of connection. 

So he opens his mouth to reply, shocked at how calm and confident he sounds. “Not at all.” 

Wonwoo only spares a second to watch the smirk bloom into a full happy grin, before he closes the distance between them and presses his lips against Junhui’s. It’s a series of chaste and gentle kisses; they’re both too shy and nervous to do more than caress and drink in the sensation. Yet it’s enough to make Wonwoo’s heart burst with elation and joy. 

When they pull away, Junhui lets his head come to rest on Wonwoo’s shoulder and laces their fingers together. Wonwoo grins and stares down at the boy at his side, thumb stroking the back of his hand. 

“You proved your point,” Wonwoo says gently, prompting Junhui to look up at him. “The party was a lot of fun.”

A breathy giggle tickles his neck. “I’m glad. I had a lot of fun, too.”

Wonwoo hums, nuzzling into the soft black hair, grin stretching across his face. “Guess that means I should return your phone.”

Junhui laughs again, and Wonwoo finds himself more attached to the sound with each passing second. “Put in your number first.”

It’s Wonwoo’s turn to chuckle as he takes the device out in such a way that it won’t dislodge the boy on his shoulder. He unlocks the screen and goes into Junhui’s contacts. After tapping out the digits, he hovers over the name. “What do you want to save me as?”

“You want a nickname?” Junhui wonders, clearly amused. 

“Well, I’d feel kinda envious if Soonyoung and Jihoon get one, and I don’t.”

“There there,” Junhui coos, squeezing his hand, and teases, “There’s no need to feel jealous.” He thinks for a second, then grins again. “How about  _Hopeless Selfie Dork_?”

“Hey!”

His protest only causes Junhui to giggle more, and he can’t seem to stop himself from echoing the sound, either. 

Sneakily, Junhui reaches for the phone with his free hand and snatches it back, quickly tapping on the keypad. Wonwoo makes a grab for it, but Junhui pulls it out before he can get purchase. He frowns, while Junhui looks very satisfied with himself as he finishes up and saves. When Wonwoo leans over and rests his chin on the brunet's shoulder, though, Junhui makes no attempt to move away.

He lets out a quiet laugh when he reads what Junhui writes.  _Coffee House Cutie_. 

“Better?” the latter asks cheekily.

“Much.” Wonwoo throws an arm around his neck, and Junhui settles back on the stable shoulder. 

“I’m gonna need a profile picture of you, too.” 

The corners of Wonwoo’s mouth curve upward. “So demanding.”

Junhui peers at him, hand already tapping at the camera app, smirking. “Is that a no?”

He receives an eye roll. “No.” 

The show of annoyance doesn’t last very long. Not when Junhui scoots closer until their sides are pressed together, one arm wrapped behind Wonwoo’s back. The latter keeps his hold around Junhui’s neck and rests his cheek on the crown of black hair. 

“Ready?” Junhui extends his hand in front of them, searching for that magic angle. Once he finds it, Wonwoo watches his grin widen on screen. “Say cheese!”

They huddle to examine the picture. They’re just sitting together, with the staircase as the backdrop. There’s nothing romantic or extraordinary about the shot, really. But what Wonwoo likes about the picture, however, is how they manage to convey a look of intimacy and closeness. It might be odd to think so about someone you’ve only met, but the tightness around his heart when he gazes at Junhui, and the sensation of the dancer sitting by his side can’t be ignored. 

“Not bad for perfect strangers, huh?” Junhui teases, glimpsing at him once he lowers the phone. It seems like he’s been sharing Wonwoo’s thoughts. 

The latter grins. “I think we’ve moved past strangers at this point.” He taps the corner of Junhui’s mouth with a finger, making the other laugh.

“Okay,” Junhui concedes, leaning against him again. “Then what comes after?”

“How about an actual date?” He waits with bated breath for an answer.

Junhui shifts until he can meet Wonwoo’s eyes, and he smiles. “On one condition,” he puts up a finger. Wonwoo nods, a little uncertain. “You gotta promise to save me from dancing with Drunk Seungcheol from now on.”

Laughing at both the request and the images it conjures up, Wonwoo nods readily. “Deal.” 

When Junhui hugs him, and he presses a small kiss against Junhui’s temple, Wonwoo entertains the idea of thanking Soonyoung for driving him out of the apartment and into Pledis Café earlier tonight. But then he thinks back on the message he left them with—and how utterly mortifying it made him feel—and he retracts the thought. 

He’ll thank Junhui’s forgetfulness instead.

 

 


End file.
